


A Friendly Favour

by Ulan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (also probably), (oh but it’s so fun when I noticed), (probably), Friends to Lovers, Imladris, M/M, Massages, PWP, Second Age, but maybe not so secret now since I am telling, secretly sharing mannerisms thanks to a long and satisfying friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 22:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: Erestor is overworked, and Glorfindel is only trying to help.





	A Friendly Favour

**Author's Note:**

> *gasp* Did I suddenly find time to write? Lol, no. I am actually posting this at 2 am on a workday and so near to the end of sem. OtL

A smile greets him at the door. "Erestor, you are right on time."

Bare feet cross the threshold. Erestor keeps his head down as he walked. It started out innocently enough, with him complaining about sore shoulders and Glorfindel looking up from the other side of the desk. "I can help with that," the captain had said. Erestor would have refused any other, but then it is Glorfindel, and there lies the difference. 

Glorfindel's room has that golden glow of firelight. Erestor has been here many times before. Friends as they are, they have shared many things here: wine (often), chess games (also often), and every once in a while (that is, not so often, but enough) those erstwhile forgotten personal stories, not always a secret but also not openly told given their years. Those stories told them more about one another, and as they accumulated over the years, little by little did Erestor come to realise that despite their many differences, he has a kindred spirit in Glorfindel, one who understands what many cannot. 

"It is warm here," Erestor remarks, standing in the middle of that room. He is outwardly still where his mind is not, filled still with worries that nearly had him coming late. 

"Aye," says Glorfindel, who comes once again into view. Erestor struggles to keep his eyes from straying, though the other makes it difficult to do so. "It is good for you, given what we have in store for tonight. I hope you do not mind the attire; I'm afraid I do not fare as easily in this warmth." 

Erestor eases out a breath as he finally lets his eyes stray to the other as Glorfindel crosses the room—chest bare, his thick, golden hair loose and flowing freely down his back, the tips touching just where the waistband of his loose white trousers touch sun-kissed skin. Light truly loves him, thinks Erestor as he watches the firelight dance against sinewy stretches and hard curves of muscle—shapely arms, a broad chest, that strong, washboard-ribbed abdomen, his rippling back. The hems of those trousers are folded up to the calf, showing off more lean muscle and perfect bare feet. 

This is a bad idea. 

"Come," beckons Glorfindel, but Erestor remains where he stands.

"I—" Erestor seldom stutters—perhaps has not stuttered in an age—but the words struggle to escape him regardless. "I am... I mean, are you _sure_ —” 

A low chuckle cuts him off. "Just come in, Erestor."

Warm fingers slide down Erestor's arm and pulls, distracting him from further thoughts as he is led inside the next room. Glorfindel's bedroom—this place Erestor does not frequent as he does the sitting room. In fact, he has only been here once, when he must have drunk too much and somehow woken up on the bed beside Glorfindel in the middle of the night. At the time, he counted himself fortunate that Glorfindel seemed to have passed out beside him as well, allowing Erestor to quietly slip out, headache be damned, and retreat back to his own room. Glorfindel thankfully passed up on the opportunity for an embarrassing morning-after by only asking how Erestor fared and complaining about his own hangover, when they saw each other the next day. They did not speak of it again, but that did not mean Erestor did think of it, and how Glorfindel's sleeping face on the pillows beside him made him think of things friends really ought to not think of one another.

The bedroom greets Erestor like a stranger who knows his secret. He purses his lips and unconsciously clutch at the neckline of his robes. Glorfindel has let him go, walking over to the far bedside table to check on something. That is when Erestor notices the faint woodsy smell that fills the room, heady and deep from where Glorfindel is burning incense, and somehow that adds to the warmth that now seems to fill Erestor’s head. 

“Sit here.”

He does not notice Glorfindel approach, but the next thing Erestor knows is that insistent pulling again. This time it takes him to the bed, somehow coaxing his feet up so he faces the headboard at an angle, his legs folded beneath him as he sits near the edge. The mattress dips shortly after and he nearly jumps at the hands that settle on his shoulder. If Glorfindel notices Erestor’s reactions, he does not show it, for he goes on to slip his fingers under Erestor’s hair and sweep them over his right shoulder. 

Erestor catches his bottom lip to keep his voice from escaping as he feels the first press of fingers on his back. Glorfindel presses the pads of his thumb one after the other from the base of Erestor’s nape down the sides of his spine. His back inevitably arches against that first sweep, the pressure both painful and relieving as neglected muscles are finally paid attention to. Glorfindel’s fingers are strong, too, his pressure perfect, so that by the time he reaches Erestor’s lower back, Erestor’s lips finally part in a gasp as those fingers find a particularly sore spot. 

“There?” Distracted as he is, Erestor is not sure whether he heard that husky quality in his friend’s voice or if the heady smoke and warmth of the room are truly going to his head. “You are as stiff as a board and your back is all in knots. When was the last time you visited the healers?”

“Not—mmh.” Erestor gets cut as Glorfindel once again finds a good spot. He bites his lip as he endures Glorfindel kneading at the sore muscles there, though he could not help the way his head rolls through the mix of pain and pleasure. By the end, he has both hands planted in front of him on the bed, his head hanging forward between his shoulders, giving Glorfindel more room to work with. _Elbereth’s stars_ , the other is good at this. “Not… not in a long time. Years now, I would say.”

“Hmm, not good,” is the thoughtful rumble behind him. “You should do it more often. Set it up as a meeting in your day’s schedule if you must, so you make sure you make time for it.”

Erestor would have laughed. Glorfindel is perhaps the only other Elf aside from Elrond who would dare scold Erestor and insist on him doing these little things. But the protest die on his lips as Glorfindel takes his shoulders again and this time, he squeezes with both his hands so that the heel of his hands press on the muscle of Erestor’s back, and he keeps that pressure there until Erestor could not keep his pained moan in. 

They are quiet after that, quiet at least save for Erestor’s voice occasionally escaping. Glorfindel kneads at Erestor’s back, once or twice already squeezing at the apparently also tired muscles of Erestor’s arms, but still seeming to focus first on the counsellor’s back and shoulders. The bed shifts again as Glorfindel seems to adjust his position behind Erestor; Erestor cannot be bothered to check. But soon the massage is strong enough to pull at his robes so that they crease and loosen at the neckline, allowing Glorfindel to reach more skin further down Erestor’s back. The heat of those hands is glorious anyway, so Erestor does not complain, does not even pay it any more mind until he feels a solid warmth at the back of his head. That is when he notices that Glorfindel is knelt behind him, the hard line of his torso right there behind him, close but not touching, just heating the air just enough so Erestor cannot ignore his presence there. 

An odd moment passes where the room is suddenly quiet, save for Erestor’s heart beating frantically in his ears. Glorfindel is too close, the heat of him too conspicuous for Erestor to ignore, and even the clean but deep and familiar scent of him touches the air and excites Erestor in an alarming way. And then in the next unbelievable moment, Glorfindel’s hand is reaching around to Erestor’s front, fingertips dancing along his neck before slowly slipping under the hem of Erestor’s neckline. Erestor gasps and wakes, and he catches that hand in his.

Glorfindel’s hand stills in Erestor’s hold. 

“Glorfindel.”

It is not a question. Erestor’s voice has naturally taken the tone of when he is about to tell the other off, which is a relief. Without that courage he is sure his voice would have trembled; he is thankful at least for their old familiarity. 

Glorfindel eases his hands out of Erestor’s, who allows him to do so only because Erestor thought he will back away. But Glorfindel’s hand settles once again on Erestor’s shoulder and this time, another kind of touch, one Erestor does not immediately recognise, brush against the skin of his nape.

“You do know what this is, don’t you?” Erestor shivers at the realisation that it is Glorfindel’s lips against his skin he feels. Hot breaths play at the sensitive surface, already so long untouched so that it feels the heat keenly as Glorfindel continues to speak against him. "Did you also think this won't stay innocent? You hesitated, there at my doors. That must mean you know how easily this can take a turn to something else. For is that not a slippery slope, my friend, when you are already in another person’s bed?”

Erestor's eyes widen, and he pulls forward and turns to look at Glorfindel. "You—" he begins, accusation ready on his lips. He should pull away from the hands on his shoulders, but it must be the heat of the room or even the fire in Glorfindel's suddenly darkened gaze, that distracts him from doing so. "If you knew this can make things strange for us, then why did you—"

"A person invites another to his rooms in the evening, to ease his body's aches through intimate care and touch..." says Glorfindel. "Come now, Erestor. Are you not the intelligent one of us? That alone should have told you of my intentions for you. Do friends extend these kinds of invitations? You knew that, so why did you agree?" 

Oh, how unfair he is. Glorfindel calls Erestor "the sharp one", "the intelligent one" when they stand side by side. But this Erestor has long realised is Glorfindel's way of making people forget that he is, in fact, just as sharp. Why else would Erestor, who has little patience in the slowness of others, find enjoyment in his company? Glorfindel is a smart Elf, even their very best when it comes to military tactics and setting the battlefield, and he keeps up with Erestor's mind and pace, enough even to catch him by surprise when the captain decides to put his mind to it.

Whenever they faced each other—in chess, in debates, sometimes in fights they keep private because Glorfindel is loath to undermine Erestor's authority among Elves in the valley—Erestor, on occasion, finds himself stumbling on traps he did not realise Glorfindel has set. It is nothing he himself does not also do, but then that is also why he sees them immediately for what they are the moment he falls victim to them.

And thus their situation now has been set. Glorfindel invited him over, knowing perfectly well what Erestor's agreement would mean. Erestor took the bait; he has been played. 

"Erestor, wait." 

He ignores Glorfindel and goes on to plant his feet back on the floor. He pulls the sleeves roughly back over his arms where they have already slipped down, and his face burns at the fact that he only just noticed his disheveled state. "I have had enough of this, Glorfindel," he says in as level a voice as he can manage. He ignores the way his hands shake as he secures the ties of his robes around his waist. "I do not know what game you are trying to play, but I would have expected that our friendship would spare me from the tricks you use on others to get them to your bed. But it seems I am no exception, disappointed as I may be to admit it. Coming here was a mistake." 

Erestor stands, but Glorfindel quickly catches his hand. “Erestor,” he pleads. “Wait, please.” 

Had Glorfindel insisted on this being a power play, and perhaps had he been prouder of his victory over Erestor, it would have been easier. But this golden Elf—not even just in looks, but as moments like this remind Erestor, in goodness of heart and soul—only looks up at Erestor, his expression troubled, humble and pleading. Erestor even knows he means it. 

“Please,” Glorfindel says again, his hold tightening around Erestor's fingers. “You are right. We are friends, and you are even my closest, but it is precisely because of this that I do not know how else to ask for you. I have known you and you have trusted me for far too many years for it to be easy to seek a change. Yet precious as you are to me, each day with you is growing worse than the last, and I find I yearn for you more and more as years pass so that I do not know anymore what to do. Have you any idea how terrified I am of how wrong this evening could go? Have mercy, Erestor.”

Shocked by these words, for they echo things Erestor only thought he would hear from Glorfindel in dreams, Erestor can only allow his hand to be pulled to Glorfindel’s face. He even watches, surprised to stillness, as the other closes his eyes and seem to nuzzle at that soft padding under Erestor’s thumb. The rest of his fingers curl under a jawline where he finds Glorfindel’s pulse beating hard and rapidly beneath his skin, and somehow that does it, that and the eyes that open and shine up at him clear and blue. Glorfindel reaches out to him, and Erestor goes to him. 

First kisses are always extraordinary—often tentative, a bit messy, but also comforting and relieving, the long-awaited destination to an exciting ride. Erestor has had his share of lovers, but then he has always kept that line clear between colleague and friends and potential bed partners. Never has he nurtured a friendship as important to him yet so tainted with attraction as he has done with Glorfindel. Then again, precious friends to him come few and far in between, and Glorfindel wormed his way to Erestor’s favour by… well, now that Erestor thinks about it, competence and sheer tenacity. Glorfindel was not annoyingly foolish, and he invited Erestor to things Erestor had no reason to refuse. People like Glorfindel were easy to love, and how was Erestor supposed to know that the beautiful yet seemingly untouchable Elf sent back by the Valar could, in fact, single him out for a confidant, much less grow to want him, too? 

And so it is that Erestor finds himself in a first kiss that is incomparable in its intensity, the product of long years of lust denied. He trembles through his next breath as Glorfindel leans over to capture his lips again, his hands pulling at Erestor’s legs so they wrap more securely around Glorfindel’s waist—and when did that even happen, that he now sits on Glorfindel’s lap? But the thought merely passes, for Glorfindel continues to kiss him, slick tongue slipping past Erestor’s lips to tease, teeth playfully nipping. Arms wrap around Erestor to hold him as Glorfindel turns them, and he eases Erestor down on his bed. 

“Is this still all right?” the captain asks, his words shy and careful though his lips take liberties with Erestor’s and his hands pull at the ties Erestor has just secured around his waist. Glorfindel kisses him and distracts him from the sound of cloth shifting as he coaxes Erestor’s arms out of the sleeves, baring him from the chest up. Kisses are peppered down Erestor’s neck as Glorfindel further manoeuvres him to roll to his side, and then to his front, and the kisses continue down his back. “I could not go on without you knowing my intentions, but I did mean what I offered. You needed relief and I would give it, if such a thing is something you still wish to receive from me.”

Erestor sighs. As much as the earlier proceeding caught him by surprise, this Glorfindel is at least a familiar one to him. It is therefore easy to turn back to look at the other over his own shoulder, easy for Erestor to relax on that bed and fold his arms where he could rest his head. “You mean it is true concern then, and not merely an excuse to get me on your bed?”

Relief seems to bloom on Glorfindel’s face and he laughs, a deep rumble and so endearingly open. “Well… not only.”

He reaches for something on the nearby table. The next moment reveals it to be a bottle of oil, which he uncorks and pours a generous amount on his hand. Erestor quietly breaths in, anticipation renewed, and he lies still as Glorfindel rubs the oil on his palms and moves back to settle somewhere behind Erestor. He does let out a pleasured gasp though as both hands rub a wide sweep up and down his back. Erestor instinctively shuts his mouth. 

“You know you can let your voice out.”

If anything, that only makes Erestor flush deeper. He also doubts if he could do so now that Glorfindel made him conscious of it, but it appears he needed not worry. Once he has the oil adequately spread across Erestor’s back, Glorfindel presses his thumbs in the middle of it and swipes slowly up, pressure intact, passing over knots and tense muscle that has Erestor groaning in his wake. This seems to encourage Glorfindel, for he moves over Erestor so that his knees are on either side of him, and he does it again, this time focusing on one side, alternating the sweep of one hand after the other, easing knots and aches as he goes. 

Erestor all but melts on the bed. As far as seductions go, this is one that seems geared perfectly to win him over. He has to give it to Glorfindel that he at least was not faking, and that he does seem to know what he is doing. Glorfindel’s touch is perfect; he knows when to use fingers and when to use the rest of his hands, and even the heat of his hands are suited to this kind of healing. He eventually has Erestor crying out in relief as the heel of his palm finds a tender spot right at the junction of neck, back and shoulder, and he pushes there _just right_ , just where Erestor needs it, and that does it—Erestor knows he is won.

Glorfindel eventually leaves Erestor’s back for some time to pay the same amount of care elsewhere. He massages down Erestor’s arms, squeezing down and rubbing up at the more delicate muscles there. He plants a kiss on the back Erestor’s hand before he starts kneading on the palm. Erestor could feel his face flushing at that show of affection, and he rolls to his side to face Glorfindel, hand still in the other’s hold. 

“How long?” he asks, making Glorfindel look up to meet his gaze. 

“How long what?”

Erestor rolls his eyes. He knows that the other knows perfectly well what, but of course he would refuse to say it, forcing Erestor to embarrass himself by saying it himself. “How long have you wanted this, if it is indeed true that you want me?”

“I do indeed want you.” Erestor catches the grin as Glorfindel stops what he is doing long enough to bend down to kiss Erestor’s lips. Erestor feels that kiss travel down his body, a sharp spike down his groin that is slowly but surely waking with Glorfindel’s steady ministrations. Glorfindel pulls away with a slick seductive sound, his tongue darting out to make a parting lick to Erestor’s lips. “Long, I would say? I have always found you attractive, but over time I…”

Erestor waits. Glorfindel’s eyes eventually soften as he kisses the hand in his again. “Let’s just say I grow fond of you as time passes, and the more affection I feel for you, the more attractive you also become. It has started to get to my head I’m afraid, and so I thought I should do something about it when you finally gave me an opening.”

Erestor wants to protest that his offhand comment was hardly an opening, but Glorfindel seems to leave things at that. He coaxes Erestor to lie once again on his front before moving down to work on Erestor’s legs. He hesitates only for a moment, looking up at Erestor, who nervously nods his head and pointedly looks away as Glorfindel pulls the rest of his clothes off of him. Glorfindel then begins once again at Erestor’s feet, kneading carefully at the soles and pulling at the toes. Erestor moans as strong fingers press down on the arches of his feet, relieving another one of his great sources of pain in recent days.

“I could fall in love with your fingers,” he sighs through closed eyes and against his folded arms. 

The fingers stop moving, just a moment, before resuming their work. “You could,” Glorfindel says from his place near the foot of the bed. “It would be a nice reward for all the work I am doing for you now.”

His touch then moves up Erestor’s legs, squeezing and kneading as he spread the oil further up Erestor’s body. Erestor moans freely as Glorfindel’s pushing on his thighs has his front inevitably pressing against the mattress. Glorfindel’s touch is not innocent, and so arousal has been rising steadily within Erestor. He is already half-hard where he is trapped between his own stomach and the firm cushion of Glorfindel’s bed, and the way Glorfindel even seems to do it on purpose—this time pressing and squeezing on Erestor’s bottom cheeks, pushing his hardness rhythmically against the bed—is only bringing Erestor dangerously to full arousal.

He therefore only moans and bucks against the bed when he feels Glorfindel spreading his cheeks, just keens through Glorfindel’s quiet, “Stop me at any time, Erestor,” before he feels slick fingers swiping at the sensitive pucker that Glorfindel has revealed. Erestor’s breaths turn ragged as Glorfindel rubs his fingers there back and forth, heating the skin through friction and making Erestor want _more_. He feels kisses tickling at the base of his spine, tongue touching oiled skin down to the tailbone, which had Erestor turning. 

“Isn’t that—”

“It is edible,” Glorfindel quickly explains. His eyes sparkle as he peers up at Erestor and brushes an oiled thumb against his lips. “Here, open.”

Erestor’s lips obediently part for him, and that finger enters him easily. It finds Erestor’s tongue and he is treated to the sweetness of cherries, just a faint fruity taste that dances along his tongue and filling his nose with its sticky sweet scent, making him moan and close his eyes. He moans louder as he feels Glorfindel’s other thumb enter him another way, seeming to continue where he earlier left off. Erestor nearly bites down on the finger inside his mouth as Glorfindel pushes the other one deeper within the heat between Erestor’s legs. 

Glorfindel moves down him again and seems intent to continue what he was doing earlier. His hands slide slowly up Erestor’s legs, takes both cheeks and parts them again. Erestor cries out at as Glorfindel swipes his tongue against that private place, now slick with oil and sensitive with the thrill of first-time encounters. He flushes at the groan Glorfindel lets out, deep and guttural and as though he enjoyed the taste of Erestor on his tongue, and he even laps at him some more—twice, three more times—before spreading Erestor even wider, and pushing his tongue in as far as it can go. 

Erestor pants against the pillows, blushing deeply and intensely as he feels that tongue breach him again and again. The fact that it is even _Glorfindel_ —beautiful and hot and even starring in each of Erestor’s recent fantasies—doing all of these only adds to the indulgent pleasure of it all. His fingers curl against the pillows, though he could not help the way he cries out and bucks against the mattress as Glorfindel pushes two oiled fingers in. Those fingers move in and out, but the moment they could move more freely, Glorfindel pushes them hard and deep inside Erestor, straight for where Erestor arches forward, crying out and seeing stars. Glorfindel kneads that place until Erestor is crying helplessly out for him, hips moving against the bed to find what friction he can get. 

“Fuck,” Erestor curses through gritted teeth. He turns, pulls away from that hand, and this time it is he who is reaching out for Glorfindel, pulling at the ties in those trousers and getting them off the other. This last article of clothing joins the others, but Erestor does not give Glorfindel time to protest as he pushes the captain down to sit, and then proceeds to wrap his mouth around the head of Glorfindel’s cock. 

Glorfindel’s groan is deep and satisfying. Erestor enjoys the taste of him, already hard and leaking though he has gone untouched thus far that evening. That, however, is a promising thing, and Erestor rewards Glorfindel’s dedication by taking him in as deep as he can go. 

“Erestor!”

Hands find the back of Erestor’s head, but he allows it, even enjoys the way Glorfindel bucks into him and pushes the head of his cock further down Erestor’s throat. Erestor gags and chokes around his mouthful, but he relaxes his throat through it, grabbing at Glorfindel’s hips and holding him in place when the other threatened to pull away, likely upon hearing the noises Erestor made. Erestor pulls back just enough to breathe, but swallows Glorfindel whole again, sucking as he goes. He scratches at Glorfindel’s thighs, coaxes him to move, and this time Glorfindel’s groan is loud and long as he thrusts up inside Erestor’s mouth, fucking into it with little care, so drowned in pleasure is he, and it is exactly what Erestor is after. 

“Valar, Erestor.” Fingers weave through Erestor’s hair and sweeps them back, and Erestor looks up to find Glorfindel flushed and watching him. He narrows his eyes at the other and goes on to taunt him, licking a long line on the underside of Glorfindel’s cock, from the base up to leaking tip, lapping and sucking at the bead there and making Glorfindel’s head roll back in pleasure. 

“Ready to put this in me?” Erestor asks him, speaking even with Glorfindel’s cock against his mouth. 

“Elbereth,” Glorfindel pants out. “Whose idea was this again?”

Soon Erestor is on his stomach again, Glorfindel straddling his legs and his oiled cock brushing at the entrance. He teases Erestor a bit more, just rubbing the head back and forth where Erestor is pink and slick and waiting. He puts in just the tip and pulls completely back, and it is not until Erestor is moaning in frustration does Glorfindel _finally_ push in, burying himself deep, and Erestor cries out his pleasure into the down of Glorfindel’s pillows. 

Far too many times has Erestor dreamt of this moment, and so he could not keep his reactions in as Glorfindel pushes inside him, slow and teasing, in and out again and again. He bites at the pillow as Glorfindel’s cock stretches him to capacity, the returned Elf every bit blessed like any favoured child of Eru. He reaches for Erestor, and without losing his pace, eases his fingers where Erestor’s teeth are biting cloth. “None of that. Let me hear you,” he says, and pulls Erestor on his elbows and knees, just as he pushes a particularly hard thrust that hits right and makes Erestor cry out, one that reverberates to the ceiling of that firelit bedroom. 

Glorfindel turns them around, puts Erestor on his back, and Erestor only has enough time to keen out his complaint before Glorfindel is spreading his legs and filling him again. His head digs back at the pillow under it as he arches up to Glorfindel, hands clawing down that hard chest and tense abdomen, muscles hard at work as they continue to fuck him until he is drowned and delirious with wanting. 

The pleasure builds, Glorfindel easily finding that spot in Erestor that makes the pleasure peak, pulls a cry out of Erestor every time he thrusts in and hits it. But as Erestor’s hand reaches down to where his own cock is hard and aching, Glorfindel slaps it away. Erestor moans as a hot fist wraps around him, pumping him in time with Glorfindel’s cock thrusting inside him. Glorfindel leans down, his weight on the hand he plants beside Erestor’s head, and he casts down a feral smile, his hair falling down his shoulders and framing Erestor’s face in a golden curtain. 

“I promised I’ll take care of you tonight, didn’t I?” he says in that private space, and that is all it takes. The excitement spikes, the pleasure crushing him in its wake as Erestor comes and tightens around Glorfindel, his seed spilling on his chest and the other’s waiting hand. He thought he heard Glorfindel curse before the thrusting finally breaks its pace. Glorfindel groans through his own release as he pumps into Erestor once, twice more, before burying himself there and letting his head fall beside Erestor’s on the pillow. 

They stay that way for some time, Glorfindel atop Erestor and both just catching their breaths. 

“Well,” Erestor says when Glorfindel eventually rolls off him and he finally finds the breath to speak. “I mean as far as relief goes, that was actually very well done.”

He can sense more than see as Glorfindel shifts to look at him. The captain is quiet for a time, but then he suddenly bursts out laughing. “You are ridiculous,” he says, though he does stretch out beside Erestor and seems to turn pensive. “Thank you, I suppose?”

He waits a beat, and then he is rising to his side as he turns to Erestor. He rests his head on his hand as he waits for Erestor to turn to him. Erestor does so eventually, though not without some difficulty, for he finds it is not so easy to look at Glorfindel and not flush with the memory of what they have just done. 

“Fall in love with all of me,” Glorfindel suddenly says. 

Erestor blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

And it is endearing, the way Glorfindel looks down, as if looking at Erestor does not come easily for him, too. “It is what I wanted to say earlier,” he says. “When you complimented my hands. Not just my hands, or whatever other parts of me I may have used to seduce you tonight. I believe I have… fallen in love with you, Erestor, and so I hope you would fall in love with me, too. Not just parts of me, is what I wanted to say.”

His words are all the more charming for the stilted delivery, even more so because Erestor knows Glorfindel to be confident and so often filled with genuine cheer. It is not often that he is shy, although of the times that he was, Erestor can only remember them to be in his presence, brought about by Erestor’s own jokes and occasional teasing. Glorfindel never reacts that way with others, and the realisation softens something within Erestor. 

“You know, that might be a bit difficult,” he begins to say. He hears the hitch in Glorfindel’s breath, so he quickly adds, “I mean I do—love you, that is. But to love you as much as I do your hands? I do not know. You have made a very strong case for them this evening, and I do not know how anything else can compare.” 

A breath escapes Glorfindel, one of relief, but he also smiles and rolls his eyes at Erestor. “Really, Erestor? You would trade your heart for a backrub? And here I thought you were quite the peak to climb. I probably should not have stressed over you nor tried so hard.”

“Aah, let me stop you there, Captain.” Erestor moves so he, too, lies on his side, flush against Glorfindel. He smiles at the way Glorfindel seems to take a breath, still seemingly unused to them being at a lovers’ proximity, but Erestor eases him with a kiss on his cheek. “The body perhaps may be easily conquered, for I desired you like perhaps every other Elf you encountered the moment you stood before us in Mithlond. This heart, however—” Erestor takes Glorfindel’s hand and places it on his chest “—is won through honesty and friendship. You surprised me with your humility, for such things are seldom seen in princes so studded with achievement, and yet you often loiter like a child in the kitchens to beg Cook for scraps of sweets. You insist on learning everyone in my staff by name just because you visit so often and you never know which of them will be there to greet you before me.” 

Erestor reaches up to caress a cheek, moist with sweat still and flushed from the heat of the room or whatever else it is. “I think I loved you, Glorfindel, the first time you knocked on my door and cried for lives that were in your care but whose loss were of no one’s fault but that of the Evil that took them. There is such goodness and pureness in you the likes of which I never knew I could see again, so darkened and jaded by shadow have I become in my long years. To have been your friend was a privilege; to be offered more is a luxury beyond anything I ever hoped to have.”

After this Glorfindel is quiet, though his blue eyes shine in the firelight. 

“That’s…” Glorfindel takes a deep breath. “I am counting that as a confession, if you do not mind.”

Erestor sighs. “It _is_ a confession, you idiot.”

“Hush.” Glorfindel swoops in and kisses him, and it is oh so sweet, the warmth and taste of him distracting Erestor for a time. “You say all those nice things in one moment, and then continue to call me by old, cruel names in the next. How about ‘sweetness’ or ‘my darling’, hmm? We have, after all, agreed to a change in our relationship?”

Erestor scrunches his nose, though he is not sure he escaped the blush that threatened to flood his cheeks at Glorfindel’s words. “I am _not_ calling you ‘sweetness’.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we can practise.” 

Glorfindel kisses him again, and this time Erestor just falls into it, arms coming up to wrap around Glorfindel’s neck, letting the kiss deepen. Indeed, the shift from friends to lovers may likely need a lot of practice and enduring more silly suggestions, which Erestor resolves to maintain the strength of will to refuse. 

Then again, it might not be so bad. Over the years, Erestor has known what it is like to lose to Glorfindel, and what it means when Glorfindel wins. The other’s joy is contagious, never taken against Erestor, and when Glorfindel smiles, he lights up the room like sunshine.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write this just for gratuitous massage sex? Yes, yes, I did. This was actually supposed to be an established relationship PWP, but the friends-to-lovers take reared its head during writing and it was too delicious to pass up. 
> 
> Also, my thanks to AndiiErestor for my new Erestor-choking-on-cock aesthetic. I obviously already love and perv on his mouth, so this is just the perfect step-up that I am honestly surprised I have not yet done until now. <3


End file.
